In Which JeanLuc Goes Bananas
by StatlerWaldorf
Summary: Wesley bakes, Data refuses to put on clothing, and potatoes fly in tonight's adventure! If you take it seriously, then that's just silly of you. Relax, breathe... watch out for Lwaxana!


**A/N: Okay, so I need to start paying attention in class instead of writing this. Please don't take this seriously, it's really not worth it. Have fun! Disclaimer: I don't own... whatever. Star Trek, Top Model, James Brown, anything else mentioned in here... I might own some bananas?**

* * *

_Stardate 44837.2: We have now been monitoring the planet of Hozelaar for forty-eight hours, and are expecting new orders from Starfleet at any time._

Jean-Luc Picard tapped the glass of his fish tank. The fish all turned and shot him a skeptical glance.

"My apologies," he murmured, stepping away and out of his room.

He walked towards the bridge. The hallway seemed longer than usual, he thought.

The ship shook. Picard froze. "_That's_ not good."

As soon as the ship regained its stability, Picard walked briskly to reach the bridge as quickly as he could. About halfway there, Picard noticed that sirens had begun to sound.

Finally, he stepped onto the bridge, finding it uncommonly hot.

"Commander Riker!"

"Sir!"

"What's going on?"

"We appear to be under attack, sir."

"And why is it so blasted hot in here?"

"Sir?"

Commander Riker looked puzzled. Picard moved on.

"Data, systems upd—Mister Data!"

"Sir?"

Picard was flabbergasted. Data was wearing only a pair of red boxer shorts. Nice, silky-looking boxers they were, but nonetheless, hardly Starfleet-approved uniform.

Picard turned bacl to Riker. "You see? The temperature has caused Data to remove all of his outergarments!" He turned back to Data. "Mister Data, you realize that this attire is beyond unacceptable."

Data turned to Picard. "I'm sorry, sir, but I do not understand why my exceptionally fashionable underwear upsets you so much. Perhaps it is the fact that you feel you have to go around in that tacky uniform."

That remark, in addition to the intense heat and Data's partial nudity, was the final straw.

"Tacky?!"

"They're very last season, sir."

"_Mister_ Data!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you telling me that this is a _fashion_ decision that has _nothing whatsoever_ to do with this infernal heat?!"

Data furrowed his brow. "Sir, even if I were capable of being so affected by the heat, internal temperature is normal. And yes, it is a fashion statement. It is indeed."

"_Normal?!_"

The ship shook again. Picard wiped the sweat off of his head.

"What's attacking us?!"

Counselor Troi, sitting beside the Riker, who sat in the Captain's chair, looked up anxiously at Picard.

"Sir, you seem so tense."

Picard sighed. "I'm… I'm sorry, Counselor, I—"

"Well, _SUCK IT UP!_"

Troi stood, glared at Picard, turned, and stomped over to the door. She punched a nearby redshirt in the face, and then stormed off of the bridge.

Picard, stunned, shooed Riker out of his chair and sat down.

"Onscreen," he said with a sigh.

Data made it so. The image of the ugliest talking bananas that Picard had ever seen flashed before them. One particularly brown-spotted fruit, clearly the leader, began to speak.

"Aha, the starship Enterprise!" Its moustache seemed to curl as it spoke.

Picard sighed. "What do you want?"

"We want you to leave this place!"

Picard rubbed his temples. "We are here on orders from Starfleet. We are simply observing the planet Hozelaar until we are instructed otherwise."

"Hah! Hozelaar? It's not even a real planet! It's merely a name based on the last name of America's Next Top Model Cycle 2 winner Yoanna House and Canada's Next Top Model Cycle 1 winner Andrea Muizelaar! Ahahahahaaaaaa!"

Picard couldn't take it anymore. He began to cry.

"Oookay," said the banana. "Awkward."

Riker turned to Worf. "Get him to sickbay. _I'll_ peel with _these_ guys."

"You mean _deal_, sir?" asked Worf.

"That's what I said."

Picard let Worf move him off of the bridge, his face not leaving his hands.

Finally, they reached sickbay.

"Hello, Q," came Dr. Crusher's voice. "What's wrong with Jean-Luc?"

Picard's head shot up. "Q?!"

Picard was incensed at this duplicity. It was, indeed, Q standing beside him, rather than Worf.

"What have you done with Worf, Q?!"

"Nice to see you, too, Jean-Luc. Worf's in the arcade, probably playing Ms. Pac-Man. _You_ know how he is about that game."

"Wh—but… we don't _have_ an arcade!!"

Dr. Crusher frowned. "We've always had an arcade, Jean-Luc."

Picard burst into fresh tears.

"Oh, dear. Q, you'd better sit him down."

He did. Picard heard Dr. Crusher scan his vitals.

"Hmm. Mmhm. Mmmhm."

Picard wiped his eyes and looked up at Dr. Crusher.

"Why am I so hot, Doctor?"

Q giggled. Dr. Crusher shot him a look.

"Jean-Luc…" Dr. Crusher sighed. "You're going through… _the change_."

Picard straightened up. "What?"

"The change, Jean-Luc. Menopause."

"_What?!_"

At this point, Q chimed in. "Now, it's all right, Jean-Luc. I've got an expert on this subject waiting right outside who would _love_ to help you out, I'm sure."

Q smiled, giving Picard a pat on the back.

Suddenly, the sickbay door opened.

Picard went white as the figure in the doorway opened her mouth to speak.

"Jean-Luc!"

At seeing Lwaxana Troi, Picard let out a scream that startled Q so much that, for a moment, he accidentally turned into a watermelon.

Quickly regaining his composure, Q put a firm hand on Picard's shoulder, trying to hold him still. As Lwaxana leapt towards him, though, Picard somehow managed to dive way and through the sickbay doors. Within a minute, he was back on the bridge.

"Commander Riker!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Report on the—" Picard sighed— "banana situation."

Riker shuffled his feet a bit. Picard turned red.

"What?!"

"Well, sir, they beamed aboard"

Picard went white again. "…and?"

"Worf ate them, sir."

"He did _WHAT?!_"

Worf cleared his throat. "They were delicious, sir."

"They were _HUGE!!_"

Riker spoke up again. "Well, sir, Worf was not the only crew member who… indulged in the bananas."

Riker glanced at Data.

Picard walked towards Data, and, upon hearing chewing noises, stopped.

"Mister Data."

"Yeff, c'pn?"

"Are you not an android, Mister Data?"

"Mhm."

"How can you be _eating?!_"

The bridge door opened. Picard turned to see Wesley Crusher.

"Hey, guys!"

The entire crew replied, in eerie unison. "Hey, Wesley!"

Picard jumped, startled by this unison. Wesley held up a basket from behind his back.

"Who wants _banana bread_?"

As the crew began to rush towards Wesley, Picard clenched his fists.

"No, no, _no!_" screamed Picard, jumping up and down.

Dr. Crusher, Q, and Lwaxana Troi entered the bridge, Dr. Crusher wielding a hypodermic syringe.

"Jean-Luc, there you are!" Dr. Crusher moved towards him. "It's a perfectly normal phenomenon!"

Picard ran out, screaming.

Soon, he found himself in engineering. Panting, he leaned against a rail. Geordi LaForge hurried towards him.

"Captain! What's going on?"

"Hello… Mister… LaForge…" Picard stopped to catch his breath, and as the pounding of his heart quieted, he distantly heard the strains of "I Got You (I Feel Good)" from not so far away.

"Mr. LaForge?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Where is the rest of the engineering staff?"

"Oh, we're having a James Brown dance party in the back room. You wanna join us, sir?"

Picard leaned against the rail as though his life depended on it.

"Geordi, in the past half-hour, I have had begun to go through menopause, negotiated with giant bananas, been chased by Lwaxana Troi, failed to persuade Data to put on clothing, and accidentally made Q turn into a watermelon."

"Oh. Really, sir, that…"

"Let's party down, Geordi."

"Yes, sir!" Geordi grinned.

They walked towards the music.

"Actually, sir," Geordi said, "you're not really invited after all."

Picard sighed. "Why?"

"Because those bananas…"

Geordi whipped out a pair of potatoes from his belt.

"…were my family!"

The potatoes sprouted bladed wings and began to spin through the air towards Picard.

"No! Geordi, NOOOOO—"

* * *

Picard awoke, panting.

He was cold, to his relief, Sniffing the air, he sensed no trace of banana.

A bit restless, he stood and changed into his uniform. He left his room and decided that perhaps pacing the ship would calm his jumping nerves.

The halls were Lwaxana-free, blissfully enough. The crew members on the bridge were fully clothed, with no exceptions.

As he was finishing up his rounds in engineering, Picard felt relieved. Not tht he had expected to find any talking bananas, but the dream had been so… abjectly terrifying.

"Captain!"

Picard turned, a serene smile on his face.

"Mr. LaForge!"

"What brings you down here, sir?"

Picard scratched his head. "I was feeling a bit… restless."

"Yeah, patrolling does get a little boring. Anything I can help you out with, sir?"

"Ah, no, thank you, Mister LaForge, I think I'll just be off to my quarters."

"Sounds good, sir."

As they went their separate ways, something caught Picard's ear, and he stopped.

"Mister LaForge, what… what's that noise?"

"Oh, I'm just humming, sir."

Picard nodded. "Of course." He started walking away again. "Carry on."

"Yes, sir!"

As he approached the exit, Picard noticed that Geordi was now singing what he had been humming before, and Picard strained for a moment to hear the words.

"_So good… so good… I got you!_"

Picard ran the rest of the way to his quarters.


End file.
